Fym

Yea, oh oh
Fuck you mean (Yeah yeah) Fuck you mean
JA Da Truth
Saylook (Yeah)

Oh, Truth, young nigga do what it do
We fascinated by coupes, we can not do Subaru's
She too, loose, so I get some neck and get gone
Ain't even left and she texting my phone
Ran up my check Ima flex like I'm strong
Ima fuck and pass her to my potna
She don't even know that im a friend of his
She done fucked and sucked up on the whole crew
But she still be acting like she innocent
Them niggas I call they gone bang bruh
Swear they do anything for some Benjamin's
Ain't got time to prove to you my gangsta
When the lawyer gotta prove that I'm innocent
So I sit back and count of these dividends
We was really on the road running
We was really out here show hunting
I done really turned deals down
The realist niggas they still around
The realist bitches they still down
Ask about me I'm still around
On my way to a mill now

See I'm dripping this sauce need a napkin
I might go to the mall blow the backend
Swear a nigga bossed up got them racks in
Might pull up on yo hoe beat her back in
Her friend look just like Janet Jackson
No Smokey nigga she wasn't capping
Say don't pull on her hair leave her tracks in
Swear these hoes would not fuck with me back then
Fuck you mean (Yeah yeah) Fuck you mean
(Yeah Yeah) Fuck you mean (Fuck you mean yeah)
Fuck you mean (Fuck you mean Yeah)

See I'm dripping this sauce need a napkin
I might go to the mall blow the backend
Swear a nigga bossed up got them racks in
Might pull up on yo hoe beat her back in
Her friend look just like Janet Jackson
No Smokey nigga she wasn't capping
Say don't pull on her hair leave her tracks in
Swear these hoes would not fuck with me back then



Credits
Writer(s): John Adams
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link